


Drunken Mistake (Or Is It?)

by jojosbrazzeradventure



Series: Emo Trinity Smut (And Sometimes Fluff) [5]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, Cute, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Romantic Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Social Anxiety, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojosbrazzeradventure/pseuds/jojosbrazzeradventure
Summary: Patrick takes you to a Christmas Eve party and ends up getting wasted, leaving you to take care of him.





	Drunken Mistake (Or Is It?)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I can't believe I got off my ass long enough to write two whole fanfics in less than a month. This fic is partly a Christmas present to my friend Taylor, who absolutely adores Patrick. Enjoy the story!  
> (Disclaimer: I have no idea how to write drunk characters, as I've never gotten drunk myself. I hope I did okay.)

_RING!_  
The loud vibrations of your phone ringing startled you awake. You sleepily reached over and answered it without looking at who was calling.  
“H...Hello..?” you said with a yawn.  
" _Hey, (y/n)! Good morning.”_ A familiar, cheery voice came through from the other line.  
You yawned again. “Oh. Hey, Patrick.”  
_“Are you okay? You sound really tired.”_  
“Well, I just woke up, so that makes sense...”  
" _Oh no. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry._ ” He suddenly sounded really sad and concerned, which made you laugh.  
“Don’t worry. I was supposed to get up an hour ago anyway,” you said in an attempt to console him. “So, what’s up?”  
Patrick seemed to temporarily forget why he called you in the first place. _“Oh. Right, that. So Pete and I are going to this Christmas Eve party later tonight, and he asked if I could invite you. I know it’s kinda last minute, but if you don’t have any plans, maybe you could come hang out with us.”_  
You felt yourself slightly blushing. You had had a huge crush on Patrick since you two met, and you were always looking to spend time with him. You weren’t the best with parties, but if Patrick was going, you might be able to suffer through it for a while. “Um, okay,” you said after a few moments of silence. “I’ll go. It sounds fun.”  
You heard Patrick laugh triumphantly on the other end. _“Alright, great! I’ll pick you up tonight at say...around seven?”_  
You did a small victory gesture to yourself, smiling. “Okay, sure.”  
_“Cool. See you then, (y/n)._ ”  
You hung up the phone and placed it back down on the nightstand. You suddenly lost all of what little confidence you previously had. You were _awful_ with huge social gatherings. But at least you would be with the one person you wanted to see most. Patrick’s cheerful disposition always made you calmer. You picked up your phone again to check the time. 1:30. You had a while to get ready, but you started rummaging through your closet anyway. You wanted to look nice for Patrick tonight. Tonight, you decided, was going to be the night you confess to him. Maybe you two would even end up under the mistletoe, or something cliché like that. It was a Christmas party after all. After going through every single article of clothing in your closet twice, you finally decided on a super cute red dress paired with a black leather jacket. You decided to get started on your makeup now, since it would take a while. It had already taken you nearly an hour to find an outfit, and since you were in a little bit of an anxious panic, you were hurrying. You wanted to keep it a little bit simple tonight as to not clog your pores. You spent another thirty minutes trying to select a song to listen to while you applied the makeup. You finished your makeup and walked out to the kitchen to grab some lunch, being careful not to smudge your lipstick.

* * *

  
Before you knew it, it was 6:30 and you were anxiously waiting for Patrick to come get you. You felt a buzz in your hand and looked at the screen.  
_Here!_  
A text from Patrick lit up your phone and you happily strolled over to the front door. You opened it slowly, shoving your phone in your pocket. Patrick saw you from the driveway and waved at you. You smiled and waved back, locking the house door. You walked over to Patrick’s car and opened the passenger door.  
“Hi.”  
“Hey,” you said, climbing into the car.  
“Are you wearing a dress, (y/n)?” a familiar voice said from behind you. You turned around and Pete was in the back seat, smiling at you. “Hi.”  
You smirked. “Hi. And yes, I am wearing a dress. I wanted to look nice.”  
“Well, I must say, you’re pulling it off well,” Pete said with joking wink.  
You huffed and turned back around, slightly embarrassed.  
Patrick chuckled. “Don’t mind him. You ready for this party, (y/n)?”  
“Yeah.”  
“And you, Pete?”  
“Yep.”  
“Cool,” Patrick said, pulling out of the driveway.  
After a couple minutes, Pete decided to break the silence. “So, (y/n), you don’t drink, right?”  
“Yeah. Why?”  
“Would you be our designated driver, just in case we get drunk?”  
You snickered at the thought of someone as innocent as Patrick drunk. What would he be like? “I guess. I got no other plans.”  
“Awesome. Thanks, (y/n),” Pete said, pulling out his phone to most likely browse through Twitter.  
You three settled into a comfortable silence for the rest of the way, with the radio quietly playing an upbeat pop song as you watched the other cars drive by through the window. You arrived at the house where the party was and Patrick stopped the car. You walked up to the front door, slightly shivering along the way. A well-dressed young man opened the door and smiled at you three.  
“Ah, guys! You made it. Hey Patrick. Pete. And...” His eyes landed on you. “And who’s this pretty lady?”  
“P-Pretty..?” you stuttered out, blushing.  
“That’s (y/n). I invited her to come with us,” Patrick interjected.  
The young man smirked. “Oh. So is she your girlfriend, or something?”  
Now it was Patrick’s turn to clam up. “G-Girlfriend?”  
“He wishes,” Pete said from behind you with a coy smile.  
Patrick probably thought his glare toward Pete looked menacing like a rabid dog, but it actually looked more like a frowning mouse. Too cute. “I do not,” he huffed.  
“But you just told me yesterday—“  
“Okay, that’s enough!” Patrick shouted, face aflame. You stood there awkwardly with no idea what was going on. A feeling which was not wholly unfamiliar to you.  
“Let’s just go inside. Brian, if you please.”  
The young man, apparently named Brian, stepped aside and grinned at you. You followed Patrick inside and Pete walked behind you. You came into the living room, which was already full of half-drunk guests. A medium-sized stereo in the corner of the bar was playing some trap song that you didn’t recognize. You tentatively sat down on one of the couches, the only one that was empty. Patrick took a seat next to you.  
“Where’s Pete?” you asked quietly.  
“He went to go get some drinks.”  
“Oh.”  
That was all you could make yourself say. You were rarely ever been alone with Patrick for more than a minute, even though you wanted to be. The mood between you two was tense after the scene earlier. It wasn’t the first time someone had confused you two for a couple, and it always left both of you hesitant to start conversations.  
“Do you know where the bathroom here is?”  
Patrick seemed a little startled at your sudden comment. “Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. It’s down the hall and to the left.”  
You stood up. “Thanks,” you said, rushing to get out of there. You locked the bathroom door and leaned against it for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. You turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on your face, attempting to cool it down. You took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.  
_Okay, (y/n), chill. You’ve only been here for 20 seconds, and have already managed to make things awkward. If you want a chance to confess to Patrick, you have to make a chance. Now go out there and talk to him like a normal person._  
You took another deep breath to steady your nerves before walking back out into the living room. You glanced at the couch you were at before, looking for Patrick, but he wasn’t there. You stopped in the middle of the room and tried to find where he had went. You saw the back of his fedora at the makeshift bar and sighed in relief. You marched over to the bar and took a seat next to him. Patrick didn’t even notice you were there. He seemed too fixated on the empty shot glass in his hand.  
“Uh, Patrick?” you called, poking his shoulder.  
He jolted upright and turned to look at you. “Oh. (y/n). You’re back.” He seemed slightly dazed.  
You frowned. “Yes. Are you okay?”  
He nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m feeling fine,” he said with a smile.  
You weren’t fully convinced. “Patrick, what was in that shot glass?”  
He looked in the glass, as if expecting it to magically refill itself. “I think vodka.”  
You sighed. _O_ _h lord._ The vodka alone was bad enough, but the fact that he couldn’t even remember if that was what he drank or not was the thing that worried you.  
“What is it?” Patrick must’ve seen the look on your face.  
“I was just hoping to have a normal conversation with you tonight. But I can’t, because you’re clearly drunk.”  
Patrick looked at you quizzically, putting his hands up in a sign of protest. “Drunk? I’m not drunk! I’ve only had three shots.”  
You made a face at him like you were on _The Office_. “Three whole shots of vodka. And you think you’re not drunk,” you said in disbelief.  
“I’m not,” he kept insisting. “Three shots is not that many.”  
“For whiskey, maybe. But it’s vodka. And you have a really low alcohol tolerance.”  
Patrick looked extremely offended. “I can handle my alcohol perfectly fine.”  
You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”  
“I can. I’ll show you.”  
That caught your attention. “Wait, what?”  
Patrick snapped his fingers. “Hey, bartender, lemme get another one of these,” he called, holding up his shot glass.  
“Um,” you stammered out, holding up a finger to get him to pause, “that’s really not necessa—“  
Patrick held up his hand to silence you. “I’ll prove to you how good I am at handling alcohol.”  
You grumbled. “Ugh.”  
The bartender poured Patrick another shot and then looked at you. “Can I get you anything, miss?”  
You sighed. “Yeah, just water. I’m not drinking tonight.”  
The bartender nodded and pulled out a water bottle from under the counter. He slid it to you with a soft smile.  
“Thanks,” you called out to him as he started serving other people. Patrick inhaled the shot and slammed the glass back on the counter.  
“Damn, that was good,” he muttered, wiping his chin with his sleeve. He turned his attention back to you, but didn’t say anything. You tried to focus on your water, but failed. You took a sip of your water, acutely aware of Patrick’s eyes wandering over you. “P-Patrick, you’re staring.”  
He gave you a confident, drunken grin. “Maybe,” he whispered in a slightly slurred voice. “You’re just so beautiful I can’t help myself.”  
You nearly choked on your water. You felt your face heating up and set down the bottle with a shaky hand. “Yep, you’re drunk.”  
_Oh god. What do I do now?_ Even though he was clearly drunk out of his mind, Patrick’s compliment still got to you. Pete suddenly walked up to you, not entirely sober himself. “Hey, (y/n),” he said, putting his hand on your shoulder. “How’s Patrick doing?”  
Patrick downed his fifth shot (well, it would’ve been, if there was anything in the glass. He was that drunk). He glared sluggishly at Pete. “You...stay away from my babygirl, man,” Patrick shouted, trying to keep himself from falling off of the barstool.  
You assumed by “babygirl”, he meant you. You sighed. “Not too great, as you can probably tell.”  
Pete snickered. “Wow. He must be really out of it. Maybe you should take him home.”  
You shrugged. “I’m starting to think that I should. Could you watch him for a second? I have to go do something real quick.”  
Pete nodded. “Sure.”  
Patrick was more adamant than that. “Hey, (y/n), where are you going? Don’t leave me, baby.” Tears started prickling his eyes. He reached out his hand as if to grab your arm, but missed. He didn’t seem to notice and kept his hand suspended in midair.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in only a minute,” you said gently, patting his hand.  
That seemed to cheer him up a little. “Okay.”  
Pete whistled. “This is really bad. You better hurry.”  
“I’m trying to.”  
You rushed to the other side of the bar where the bartender was. “Hi,” you called, trying to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” the bartender asked.  
“Yeah. Do you serve coffee? Because I have to take a drunk guy home, and I’m probably gonna need some.”

* * *

  
With Pete’s help, you managed to drag Patrick outside to where his car was. Also thanks to Pete, you had managed to get some water into Patrick’s system. Pete tried to shove Patrick into the passenger seat, but he wouldn’t let him. Apparently, according to Patrick, Pete was trying to steal his baby (you) away from him. So you had to push Patrick in yourself. After you had gotten him in, you closed the door and immediately apologized to Pete.  
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen him drunk a few times before. I’m just glad it’s you taking care of him.”  
“W-Why me?”  
“Because he trusts you. A lot. Did you not hear what he was saying earlier?”  
“That’s _drunk_ Patrick. But anyway, I should probably get him to bed.” You looked at Patrick through the car window. He was staring at you and Pete quite vehemently.  
“Tell him to call me in the morning. So I don’t worry about him all day,” Pete said, completely unaware of Patrick glaring at him.  
You smiled. “Will do. I’ll see you later,” you said to Pete, climbing into the car. He waved at you as he walked back inside the party.  
You could feel Patrick’s gaze on you as you started the car.  
“Listen, (y/n), this may be the alcohol talking, but I love you.”  
You tried to suppress your blush. “Yeah, I got that.”  
“Do you love me?”  
You internally panicked. How were you supposed to focus on the road ahead of you with _that_ dropped in your lap? “I...I don’t know...”  
Patrick grumbled. “That’s not an answer.”  
“Well, I....I need to focus on driving right now, okay, Patrick?” You just wanted to stop that conversation before it even started.  
Patrick hiccuped next to you. “You’re no fun,” he muttered, his words slightly melded together. For the rest of the drive to Patrick’s house, he was silent, which you were kind of grateful for. It was super awkward for you to deal with Patrick being all affectionate when you had a fairly big crush on him. It was almost like he was intentionally exploiting your secret. He didn’t figure it out, did he? You silently prayed that he hadn’t. You glanced over at Patrick who was quietly staring at the window, occasionally mumbling something under his breath. He seemed to forget all about drunkenly teasing you. You were glad for the quiet. It helped you concentrate. Eventually, you pulled up to Patrick’s house.  
“We’re home.”  
Patrick lifted his head slowly and looked around. “Are you coming in with me?”  
“I kinda have to. I need to make sure you get to bed okay.”  
Patrick clasped his hand over his heart, his eyes sparkling with tears. “You care so much about me.”  
You forced your gaze away from him. He was too cute, even when drunk. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to remain calm. “I’m your friend, I kinda have to,” you said quietly. Patrick seemed like he didn’t hear you and continued looking at you like you had just set a puppy in his lap.  
“Let’s get going. You need sleep.”  
You got out of the car and opened the passenger door. You lifted Patrick out of the seat, his body a little bit lighter than you expected. As soon as you pulled him out of the car, he toppled against you, almost pushing you over. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, trying to stabilize himself. You could feel his breath on your neck.  
“Um..” you stuttered. His grasp started slowly slipping off of you.  
“(y/n),” he drunkenly muttered. “I can’t stand up.”  
You shakily put your arm around his waist, trying to lift him up. “No shit, honey.” You started walking in the direction of his house. “Let’s go.”  
Patrick stumbled along the way, basically on top of you. As he walked more, he slowly gained a little more balance, but he still had to lean on you for support.  
“Hold my hand, (y/n),” Patrick said with a languid smile.  
You looked at him blushing. “Uh...” you started to say, not sure how to finish.  
Patrick pouted. “Please?” His eyes had an innocent, childish sparkle that would make you feel a little guilty if you said no. You looked around, gauging the distance from where you were to his house. It wasn’t too far. Maybe you could make it there without dying of embarrassment.  
You sighed. “Fine.” You slowly laced your fingers between his, feeling your face heat up as you did so.  
Patrick smiled. “Yay!”  
You turned your head, trying to hide your blush. “C-Come on,” you said, yanking on his arm to pull him up to the door of his house.  
Patrick followed you with no objections. He was apparently satisfied with you just holding his hand. You marched up the walkway to his front door and turned to face him.  
“I need your keys, Patrick.”  
He patted down his sides with his free hand, apparently trying to find where he put them. He eventually latched onto a pocket and his face lit up. He tried to reach into the pocket, and failed multiple times. You couldn’t help but laugh. He eventually got his hand into the pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He handed them to you with a shaky arm. You managed to grab them out of Patrick’s hand in one try, which was honestly quite difficult. You searched through the keychain until you found his house key. You unlocked the door, feeling Patrick slowly sink his weight into you. You pushed him back up and started dragging him to his bedroom. As soon as you reached it, you gently set Patrick down on his bed and he immediately flopped down, losing all control of his limbs. He muttered something that kind of sounded like “thanks, baby” and then promptly passed out. You heaved a huge sigh of relief that you got him here safely. You looked into his sleeping face and smiled. You found a spare blanket resting on the foot of the bed and let it gently flutter down onto Patrick. You gingerly removed his fedora and glasses and set them on the nightstand. You moved his hair out of his face and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. You turned around to leave and made it to the doorframe before something made you stop.  
“..(y/n)...”  
Patrick’s soft voice echoed through the silence, sending a chill down your spine. You whipped your head back around, a hot blush encompassing your face. Patrick was still out. He must’ve been talking in his sleep. That embarrassed you even more. Out of nowhere, it hit you how unethical it was to leave a drunk person alone. You had heard many stories of people choking on their own vomit and dying because no one was there to help them. You groaned and walked back towards Patrick’s bed. You hesitated. It was already awkward enough between you two as it is. You took a deep breath and climbed into the bed, blushing. You watched Patrick’s chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his breaths. It was weirdly relaxing to see him so calm, even though he was totally gone. You suddenly realized how close your faces were to each other. Too close. You tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you remembered you had makeup on.  
_Shit._  
You shot up out of the bed and went straight for the bathroom. After rigorously scrubbing your face, you laid back down in the bed, exhausted.  
Patrick was still completely out next to you. You smiled at how peaceful he looked.

* * *

  
At some point, you had fallen asleep staring at Patrick’s face. Your eyes fluttered open a couple hours later and it took a moment to recognize your surroundings.  
_Oh yeah. I’m in Patrick’s house...wait. Where’s Patrick?_  
The rest of the bed next to you was empty. You shot up.  
“Patrick?” You leaned over the edge of the bed, thinking that he might’ve fallen off. He wasn’t there either. Suddenly a familiar noise filled your ears. A...shower? You turned over to see the bathroom light peeking out from under the closed door. You sighed in relief and flopped back down on the bed. He was perfectly fine. You were so relieved that you almost fell back asleep. But before you could, Patrick stepped out of the bathroom, looking way more comfortable than before.  
“You’re awake,” he said, quietly, noticing your eyes still half-open.  
You slowly sat up in the bed. “Yeah. Are you doing okay?”  
“My head’s killing me, but other than that, I’m fine. Hold on, what are you doing here?” His eyes suddenly widened and he blushed. “We didn’t...you know...did we?”  
“No, no, no! N-Nothing like that!” you hurriedly protested.  
Patrick sighed heavily. “Oh, thank God.”  
“I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. That’s all.”  
“So...why are you in my bed?” He still had a faint blush.  
“Oh. Um,” you stammered, trying to think of a response that didn’t sound creepy. “I...uh...I didn’t want you to be alone, in case you got sick or something.” Eh, close enough.  
“Oh. T-Thanks, I guess.” Patrick took an awkward seat next to you. You both settled into a slightly uncomfortable silence.  
_Oh no. Not again_.  
You were about to try and stir up some chatter, but Patrick beat you to it.  
“You know, (y/n),” Patrick started to say with a soft blush, “you looked really pretty tonight. I never see you wear dresses, so you always look, um...g-good whenever you do.”  
You felt yourself tense. You weren’t sure what to say to that. Accepting compliments was never your strong suit, especially when they were from Patrick. They always meant more coming from him. You averted your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Um, t-thanks.”  
Patrick awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, seemingly feeling the tension. “Quick question. (y/n), did I make any m-moves on you when I was d-drunk..?”  
You were silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say. “M-Maybe a few...” you finally replied in a small voice.  
Patrick blanched. “Oh my god. I am so, so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”  
You tried to suppress a giggle. “Don’t worry about it,” you said with a calm smile. “You said it yourself. You were just drunk.”  
“A-About that...” Patrick started to say, hunching up his shoulders in a kind of protective stance. “Thanks again for taking care of me tonight. I really appreciate it.” His eyes were scanning the room, looking for anything to focus on but you.  
You were about to say “no problem”, but Patrick cut you off by leaning over and gently pecking your cheek.  
His eyes immediately filled with regret and embarrassment. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. That was totally out of line. Sorry.” His cheeks were bright red.  
Your fingers slowly grazed over the area he kissed. “You missed,” you muttered.  
“I...what?”  
Your body seemed to move before you could tell it to. You slowly leaned in and kissed him, full on the lips. Patrick’s eyes widened in surprise. He was tense at first, but after a couple seconds he began to slowly sink into it. When you pulled away, Patrick’s glimmering eyes were locked with yours. He seemed too shocked to speak.  
“I...um...”  
The impact of what just happened all came rushing through you, leaving you extremely embarrassed. You hid your face in your hands, absolutely horrified at yourself. “....Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
You couldn’t see Patrick’s face, but you expected him to be a little mad. His voice, however, was just as gentle as before. “Don’t be silly, (y/n).” He moved your arms away from your face and lifted your chin to face him. “I don’t mind.”  
He leaned down and softly placed his lips against yours. This time, the kiss was much shorter, but just as telling of his true feelings. When he pulled away, he didn’t stay very far away from your face. Your noses were nearly touching.  
“You know, it wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault that I was acting like that.” His voice was soft and quiet.  
“I...um...I really do love you.”  
You forced your eyes away from his and turned your head to the side, trying to hide the fact that you were giggling like a maniac, which confused Patrick.  
“Wh-Why are you laughing?” he asked, slightly uncomfortable. “Did I...did I do something wrong, or...?”  
You remade eye contact with him. “No. Not at all.” You stumbled over your words, trying to regain composure. You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just such a coincidence. A very unexpected one.”  
Patrick gave you a look that showed he was still confused. “Huh?”  
You playfully rolled your eyes and softly poked him on the nose, making him blink in surprise. “I love you too. Dumbass.”  
Patrick held up his hands in mock offense. “Hey, no need to be rude about it.” You laughed softly and Patrick smiled. “Oh. It’s after midnight,” he muttered in a faintly mystified tone, glancing over at the clock on the nightstand. He turned back to you with a slight blush. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He gently pulled you in for one more kiss. Your lips parted slowly as you stared into each other’s eyes.  
“You know, you’re the best Christmas present I could’ve hoped for,” you muttered, sounding a little more confident than you felt.  
Patrick smiled at you, looking a little embarrassed. He reached his arm out and wrapped it around your shoulders. He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek. “You too.”  
You leaned your head on Patrick’s shoulder and snuggled into his side. He gently ran his fingers through your hair over and over, making you calm enough to fall asleep. Which, at some point, you did. You fell asleep in Patrick’s arms, exactly where you’ve always wanted to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, guys! I hope you enjoyed this, and as always, please leave your thoughts in the comments. I always appreciate hearing back from my readers. See you next time!


End file.
